


And To This Day

by Swee_tly



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (if I dont collapse into a blushing puddle of flesh), College AU, Depression, I'll update as I progress, M/M, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Reincarnation AU, a lot of loneliness, angsty angst, intended smut for later chapters, just tagging some of these once Jean regains his memory, of the explicit level, skater!Marco, student!Jean, trigger warning possibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:26:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swee_tly/pseuds/Swee_tly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ever since a few months back, I noticed that something was missing, but I have no fucking idea what it is. I'm loved by all my friends and my family. I'm loved but… But why do I feel so lone-" His voice cracked, causing him to turn his head away in shame.</p><p> </p><p>For a few years now, Jean has felt like a part of his life was missing. Like something important to him was just out of his reach, and for the longest time he wasn't exactly aware that it had been missing in the first place. But after the higher power in his life at the time, his Art teacher, had decided enough was enough, Jean was sent to go find what he was missing over a two week leave. Unfortunately, he wasn't expecting to find exactly what he was missing that very night and considering where he woke up the next morning, he wasn't even close to being ready for it.</p><p>(Dear lord, I suck at summaries x.x)</p>
            </blockquote>





	And To This Day

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first work in this fandom.. although it's not my first idea! But hey, as if that story will ever get out of "idea" mode...
> 
> Anyways, a few notes for this fic. For me, I've had quite a few teachers that honestly loved their work and their students, so if you think that Mrs. Monroe doesn't seem realistic, I'm so sorry you havent had the chance to meet someone like her... I actually based her off one teacher that kept me in school.
> 
> Secondly, the song that the skater dances to is this:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jQINMA6tu8
> 
> From 0:00 to 2:08. That's all I had intended for the skate... The lyrics might not be 100% accurate to the theme of the performance, but the music is so haunting, I just love it.
> 
> So please, let me know what you think of this! I intend to make it a multi chapter fic. Around at least in the 15 chapter zone..
> 
> Oh and later, I intend to introduce/reunite with some other characters...

"I'm sorry Jean, but I just can't accept this."

 

"What the hell do you mean 'you can't accept this'?! I did everything you asked of me on this project, what's wrong with it?"

 

Jean slammed his hand down on his teachers desk, a bit more harshly than he intended. Half finished works and assignments cluttered her desk, fluttering slightly with the force of his hand. His teacher, Mrs. Monroe, flinched slightly with the impact, but the sad smile never left her face.

 

"Jean, I'm sorry, I guess I didn't phrase that properly. Its not that I can't accept this; its that I don't want to." His exasperation was evident when he swore under his breath. Jean had spent many sleepless nights trying to finish his term end project and upon finishing it, he practically crawled on his hands and knees to his teachers office to hand it in. By no means was he proud of his art piece, but having his teacher simply deny taking in his hard work was enough to push him over the edge of his patience and control. Noticing this, she quickly continued before he had the chance to storm out of the room.

 

"Look, I just know that you can do so much better. When you came here, you had so much potential and hope with your passion towards art; you really loved what you did and I could see that in your paintings.  But I don't see that in you anymore, Jean. Suddenly, your works seem more forced and they lacked your passion. What happened?" Placing his work down, Mrs. Monroe crossed her hands and watched her student with calculating eyes, making her look wise beyond her years.

 

The genuine worry in her voice seemed to inflate his irritation rather than quell it. "God, you sound just like my mother." he spat out at her, a small chuckle darkening his words.

 

"Well, I certainly am old enough." There was no malice in her tone, but she spoke sharply no doubt in response to his jibe.

 

In the tense silence that followed, his humorless smile fell from his lips. He couldn't stay mad at her, knowing she truly had his best interests at heart. Sitting down with a sigh in the chair across from her desk, Jean put his head in his hands.

 

"I don’t know what went wrong. I don't know where my… passion went. I just woke up one day and I couldn't feel it when I held the paintbrush in my hand." Pulling back, Jean glared at his hands as if they were the ones guilty of his falling out. "Ever since a few months back, I noticed that something was missing, but I have no fucking idea what it is. For weeks and weeks I've tried different things in my life, but everything feels so shallow to me. I just can't find whatever it is that I need. I mean, I'm loved by all my friends and my family. I'm loved but… But why do I feel so lone-" His voice cracked, causing him to turn his head away in shame.

 

The teacher watched her student sag into his chair, understanding pooling in her eyes as he fell apart before her. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out some tissues and carefully maneuvered around the piles of books and papers on the floor to stand at his side. Placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, she knelt slowly and offered him the tissues. The redness on his face spread to his ears as he quickly snatched them from her hands and blew his nose. She gave him another minute of silence to regain his composure before she spoke.

 

"You remind me a lot of my son, you know that? He works so, so hard to get what he wants. Unfortunately, he works so hard that he gets lost along the way and he looses sight of what it was he wanted in the first place. Seem at all familiar?" Having his fault brought to light made Jean huff irritably to her, but his shoulders had relaxed as she spoke with her telltale motherly tone. "You've been working very hard, haven't you?"

 

It wasn't exactly a question. Moving slowly to give him time to react, she placed her hand on his head. "You've come so far, and you've learned so much! Because of that, I am so proud of you and you should be proud of yourself as well, okay? But you still have a lot of work to do to learn more about yourself so you can fill that emptiness in your heart. And that's going to take time. But as you said, you have great friends who will be at your side for that right?" After patting his cheek she carefully returned to her seat. "I know you can do it, Jean. I believe in the kid who stormed my office those few years ago, after the official deadline I might add, wanting the last spot in my course. The determination you had then isn't missing, but you will need to use it again to help push you through this." Pulling a large binder out from one of the many drawers in her desk, his teacher started to scribble some notes. "So… on that note, you will be taking an excused two week leave from my course."

 

"What?!" Throughout her speech, Jean said nothing and calmly listened to the only woman he truly revered and looked up to in his life. But with her final statement, he rose to his feet in surprise. The speed in which he stood nearly sent him flying across the desk but he caught himself just in time.

 

"Go find yourself again, Jean." The finality in her tone gave him no chance to argue with her and judging by the way she returned to her work, she would not welcome the discussion.

 

Jean stood there watching her for a moment before he made his way to the door. Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he turned back to her. "Thank you."

 

"Good luck, kiddo."

 

\---

 

His cheeks burned slightly under the direct sunlight as Jean lay on his back, eyes closed to the blinding radiance of the sky. The wind picked through his hair, seemingly lifting the heat from his face, causing him to relax deeper into the blades of grass beneath him.

 

"Well hello there, Mr. Pouty face!"

 

Jean started when a shadow fell across his face, blocking out the sky. The grass tickled his neck as he craned it to see who stared down at him. The waves of bright red hair shone brightly, blinding him as it usually did in the direct sunlight, causing Jean brow to twitch slightly and return to his gentle slumber. "Cat."

 

The hands on her hips fell immediately, recognising that Jean wasn't in the mood for her usual theatrics. "Hey, what's wrong?" With the creak of her knee high leather boots, Jean felt her join him on the ground, fluffing her bag to use as a makeshift pillow.

 

"Oh, nothing much. Just deciding what to do with my next two weeks of leave."

 

"My god, were you suspended for something?!" Before she had a chance to properly lie down beside him, Cat sat up and looked over to him, startled.

 

"No, no, its not like that. It's hard to explain but Mrs. Monroe said I need some time to myself, and considering how relaxed I feel right now, I would be inclined to agree with her." Even with his first flash of irritability when Cat disrupted his peace, Jean still felt emotionally unstable. Hoping to hide that fact, he made a show of crossing his ankles and stretching his arms only to entwine them behind his head. Jean flashed Cat a lazy smile.

 

She harrumphed loudly, but relaxed back onto the ground nonetheless. "Everyone was getting rather worried about you actually. You looked so lost all the time. None of us had any idea what to do to get you out of it."

 

Now it was Jean's time to sit up. "What, really? Was I that bad?" She blinked once and met his eyes squarely.

 

"Jean, you stood outside your dorm room for half an hour before you put the key in the lock and actually went inside. People were spreading rumors that you were possessed!" Cat scrunched her nose disdainfully but her eyes danced mischievously. With a groan, Jean properly sat up and pushed a thumb into his sockets.

 

"… Do you want to talk about it?" Her voice softened as she watched the different emotions flash across his face.

 

"No, I don't." After the stars behind his eyes faded, Jean looked back to his friend. Her lip was tucked under her teeth in an adorable little pout but he could see the hurt in her eyes.

 

"But…" She looked back at him quickly, barely concealing her hope. "I _do_ want to talk." The smile he received in response was almost as blinding as her hair. It was contagious.

 

They spent the next few minutes joking about the shapes of the clouds and who they resembled. Suddenly, as if remembering something, Cat rolled over and opened up her backpack. Curious, Jean rolled onto his side and watched her enthusiastically pull a bag of sour cream and onion chips from her bag.

 

"Look what I brought!" She ripped open the bag and presented it to him, showing her teeth with a smug smile. Something in him at that moment broke. Maybe his stress had gotten to him but suddenly his self control slipped.

 

With lightning fast speed, Jean hand flashed into the bag and came out with a large handful of chips. The first crunch of a chip in his mouth had him groaning in bliss.

 

"Oh my god, yes. You are a goddess sent to earth, Catlyn. Really." She watched him, with her chin resting in her hands, a victorious smile on her face. She never once reached for the bag.

 

Jean watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Aren't you going to have some?"

 

"Nah, I prefer salt and vinegar." Jean paused, another handful on the way to his mouth. His eyebrows drew together slightly.

 

"Then why did you get them?" Pink rose to her cheeks.

 

"W-well I know that they are your favourite and… Okay don't laugh at me alright?" Blinking innocently, Jean flashed her a big smile, partially chewed chips and all. Rolling her eyes in disgust, Cat continued. "Well, during last block, I suddenly had the feeling I should talk to you. Call it woman's intuition? I felt like you suddenly needed someone to talk to, so I bought chips just in case. But it looks like I was right!"

 

Jean just stared at her for a minute, absentmindedly fishing around the plastic bag before he replied. "Women are scary creatures." Cat smacked him in return. She was about to say something more when the bell for the end of the lunch hour rang through the air, disrupting their little moment.

 

"Shit!" Cat jumped to her feet and threw her backpack over her shoulder. "I gotta go! Sorry, I'm REALLY late for class, I was suppose to be there early!" She started to sprint away before Jean could answer but she stopped suddenly and turned around. Raising her voice, she yelled back to him. "Are you joining us at the rink for Jeremy's cousins' competition?"

 

Jean pondered the idea for a moment. "Yeah, I'll be there! Promise! See ya then!" She waved at him and started to run back to the main building. "Oh and Cat! You're an amazing woman, don’t you ever change!"

 

With the distance between him, Jean really had to belt out his thanks at the top of his lungs. This was fortunate for Cats sake, considering her face turned red as a cherry when her heart clenched tightly in her chest.

 

\----

 

The door to Jean's dorm room slammed shut against his shoulder, rattling the knocker on the outside of the door. Using more effort than he actually had to spare, Jean kicked his shoes off towards his bed as he made his way to the small ensuite bathroom. Turning on the tap, he forgot to wait for the hot water before he doused his face. He came up spluttering, skin pink with the shock. Regardless how refreshing the cold water actually was, Jean wasn’t exactly looking for a wake up call. His only intentions for returning to his dorm room was to sleep.

 

He tapped his foot against the tiled floor as he waited for the water to warm. Reminding himself that he had a minute or two before the water reached his 4th floor room, the brunette shrugged out of his grass stained clothes. With practiced skill, he balled them up and hit the dirty clothes hamper for a perfect 3 points. Smirking to himself, although he actually had no reason to, considering the distance to the hamper was a good 6 feet, Jean returned to the small sink and let his face soak in the warm water cupped in his hands.

 

He brushed the taste of the chips from before out of his mouth and shook out his hair over the sink, watching small blades of grass fall into the bowl and wash down the drain with his toothpaste. Content with his current level of cleanliness, he stumbled over to his thin, rickety bed and collapsed into the sheets. The small electric fan he had on his desk had cooled the air enough to bring a chill against his exposed skin. Cocooning himself in the not-as-clean-as-they-should-be covers, Jean barely managed to set the alarm before sleep mercifully overcame him.

 

 

 

 

**5 and a half hours later...**

 

The red glare of his alarm clock stung his eyes as he blinked the crust from his lashes. He groaning into his pillow, tempted to roll over and return to his deep, dreamless sleep, but Jean continued to stare at the numbers that blinked before him. It took a few seconds of remembering what those numbers actually represented before his eyes widened and Jean swore into his drool stain.

 

When attempting to kick the sheets off himself in a panic, Jean managed to pull that one muscle in his foot that made him lock up in fear of his imminent death. After a second, the pain ebbed and Jean very cautiously flexed his foot. Finding no further pain, he succeeded in peeling the sheets off his legs and gingerly, but hastily, hopped over to his bathroom.

 

Grabbing his towel, Jean gently ran towards the dorm showers after locking his own room behind him. He slipped into the first open stall and turned on the water. Thankfully, the showers heated up much faster than the individual dorm bathrooms, so Jean managed to quickly duck under the spray and apply some shampoo and soap. Sure, he was on leave for two weeks, but that wasn't an excuse to look a homeless man, not to mention smell like one.

 

When Jean put his soapy head under the water, he registered the grunting noises coming from the stall next to him. His face actually ached from how far back his eyes rolled into his head in exasperation. It was obvious they were trying to keep quiet, but as common courtesy in a man's shower room, he made his presence known rather blatantly.

 

"Uh, just letting you know, I'm in here too. So um, yeah don't worry about me. I'll be out soon?"

 

"… Okay, thanks man." The two suddenly got louder.

 

 _That was not an invitation to ignore the fact that I'm actually still here, bastard_. Thumping his forehead against the tiled wall a few times, he finished rinsing off and quickly made his escape before his imagination decided to catch up with what his two shower neighbors were actually doing.

 

Returning to his room, Jean fished around his drawers for something clean to wear. Extremely grateful that he visited his home the week before and brought his dirty laundry with him. Jean thanked his mother for insisting on cleaning his clothes for him like the doting parent she was.

 

He smiled gently to himself, tucking his nose into the collar of his shirt and smelling the familiar scents of home. His moment of nostalgia broke when his phone vibrated loudly on his desk. He flicked his eyes to the caller ID before pressing it to his ear.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Don't 'yeah' me, Jean. Get your ass over here, or you'll miss his performance." The gruff voice on the other end of the phone held no forgiveness, but that wasn't exactly out of character for his childhood friend.

 

"Okay, okay, I'll be there soon. Sorry Jeremy, I overslept." Regardless of the obvious irritation, Jean knew it was half-hearted and chuckled to himself.

 

"I figured. Cat told me what happened, so I was calling to make sure you hadn't slipped into a self induced coma."

 

Jean snorted as he picked up his things and locked the door on his way out. "What if I didn't answer? Would you have come to check on me?"

 

"Oh hell no, if I found you first, I'd be obligated to be the one to change your diapers. No fucking thank you."

 

"Aw, come on man, you know you love me enough."

 

"Jean." His friend's voice became disgustingly sweet. "You are my precious, precious childhood friend. But come the zombie apocalypse, you'd be the first to go." Before Jean could reply, the dial tone cut him off as his friend hung up.

 

Already half way to the bus stop, Jean stopped and started at his phone. He chuckled to himself and slipped his phone into his pocket. He continued to laugh even when the bus pulled up and he seated himself at the back. Then all together, his laughter stopped and he stared out the window in horror. _Oh my god, he would actually throw me to the zombies, wouldn't he._

 

 

 

"I swear to god man, I am so not dying for you anymore. Dick. Bastard. Whore." Jean harrumphed into his seat at the end of the row, three empty seats between them. "I thought we were brothers and you'd save me in your transformer when aliens rose from the sea to dissect our brains, but nooooo, you'd fucking leave me to rot in their 'unknown species' laboratory next to Kim Kardashian!" Obviously, it had been a long, long bus ride for Jean.

 

His friend blinked at him, absolute confusion on his face as a piece of popcorn fell from his open lips. After chewing momentarily, Jeremy spoke up, unsure of himself.

 

"...Yes?"

 

"You motherfu-" Jean was suddenly cut off as someone shoved a mini beer can into his open mouth, causing him to splutter in surprise.

 

"Oi, dickwad, there are children here. Watch your fucking mouth."

 

"Jesus Christ Jean, really."

 

Two familiar faces stood waiting beside him in the aisle smirking openly. After removing the can from his mouth, Jean flashed them a hearty smile.

 

"Hey you two, long time no see!"

 

"Yeah, long time to see man!" All previous joking aside, Jean stood and hugged both the twins in turn. From behind him, an amused voice spoke up.

 

"Oi, stop groping my girlfriend you bastard." Jean rolled his eyes as he turned back to Jeremy's grinning face. Before he had a chance to retort about his friend being unworthy, Alex spoke up in his place.

 

"Stop dating my sister while your at it, simpleton." The defensive tone of the eldest twin's voice was obviously playful, but still his sister, Rebecca, stepped around Jean to sit comfortably in her boyfriends lap.

 

"Now, now boys. My life, my choice." Jeremy grunted happily in response.

 

"See? She chooses me."

 

"Well, it's certainly not for your looks. I wonder what she sees in you."

 

Jean snorted to Alex's rebuttal, but something quickly caught his interest. In the process of everyone awkwardly shuffling around each other in the narrow rows, Alex had managed to snag the popcorn box from Jeremy's hands and was happily munching away.

 

Jean blinked, having not seen the action at all and wondering what sort of sorcery the man had committed.

 

Before he had a chance to properly sit down and shove a hand into the box himself, Cat came skipping up the stairs and excused as she squeezed herself around them to reach her seat on the far side of Jeremy. She had waved to Jean as she scooted past him and gave him a wink as she shoved another bag of sour cream and onion chips into his hands. As he started to join his friend in happily munching away at his treat, Jean found himself feeling content with his choice of friends. _I've done good._

 

But still that little pain in his heart never truly slipped away.

 

\--- 

 

It took a good hour before Jeremy's cousin skated for his chance to advance to the second round much to Jean's irritation. Apparently, he wasn't quite as rushed as he had thought.

 

Ian, the cousin, was skating with his partner to a song from the musical Chicago, called "They Both Reached for the Gun".

 

Jean was confused at first. Having seen the movie, he had no idea how the pair would pull off the complicated flow of the song, but when the music started, Jean found himself giggling with the crowd. Ian manipulated his partner as if she were a marionette. He made a flourish with his arms when singing along with the words, and then they launched off into their spins, twirls, jumps and twists. Occasionally, they added in their own little footwork in time to the music, causing the audience to clap with the beat and stomp their feet. A few even sung along, including Jean and his friends. The music sped up faster and faster, quickly reaching the crescendo. And with a final pose, the song ended, but the noise of the crowd grew with loud hoots and whistles when the team embraced in excitement and jubilation.

 

As the two waved their thanks to the crowd, they skated off the ice to their trainers and continued their celebration behind the scenes. Jeremy sat back with a huff, a brilliant smile on his face. By the way his fingers massaged his jaw rather tenderly, Jean figured Jeremy's cheeks must be aching. Thinking about it further, his own jaw started to throb. Wiping off the grin he had plastered to his own face, Jean sat down beside his friend after the applause had died away.

 

"Damn, that kid is going places. To think he's only 16 and already an Olympic contender." Jeremy sighed wistfully. "Well, I better go to the locker room and congratulate him. I'll be back in a bit." He stood and removed himself from his seat, turning to walk away but stopped and looked back to Jean. "Hey man, could you do me a favor and record the next guy? I heard he's pretty damn good. You can use my camera."

 

"Yeah sure man. Say congrats to Ian for me." After Jeremy had long since disappeared from sight, Jean finally caught onto something. "Wait, what the fuck, he's only 16?" His three friends beside him and turned and stared at him for a second before the twins scoffed and went back to eating their fresh box of popcorn. It was Cat who humored his confusion.

 

"Damn Jean, delayed reaction much?"

 

"Hey, I had some things on my mind, alright? Not to mention I'll have that god damn song stuck in my head all night. I might have to rent the fucking movie to get it out."

 

"Ah, yeah I can agree with you on that one. Can I join you actually? I wouldn't mind watching the Cell Block Tango again as well." Knowing Alex's love for musicals, Jean enthusiastically approved. Rebecca and Cat voiced their interest as well, turning it into a group movie night. A small place in his chest grew warm as his friends laughed around him. He had always felt at home around them and today felt no different. But still, that tiny black hole in his heart... Shaking his head to scatter the thought, Jean bent over to pick up Jeremy's camera to set it up for the intermission performance.

 

As he fiddled with the excessive number of wires and buttons, a thought popped into his head. "Who is this guest skater anyways? I'm kinda guessing that all the people here didn't really show up for the competition alone." _I wonder if I've heard of him,_ Jean thought to himself.

 

Rebecca hummed briefly as she thought. "I'm not exactly sure. But if I remember correctly, he might have skated in the Olympics. I don't think he got very far however, because if he's who I think he is, he might have gotten very sick before it even started. He might not have even made it to the official competitions, but I can't be sure."

 

"Oh, any idea to his name?"

 

"Nope."

 

"Helpful." But just as he spoke, the lights dimmed and a lone skater slid onto the ice. Applause started and the stadium immediately grew tense. Jean could almost feel himself start to sweat when the announcers voice split the air. The applause continued through the introduction, making it difficult to hear.

 

"Tonight, for our guest performance during the intermission, I present to you, a local favourite! Skating to Bodhisattva Cathedral, I give you-"

 

"Oh my FUCK! That's a Hellsing OST!" The shrill screech to his left had Jean jumping in his seat.

 

"..t!" His friend's scream successfully drowned out the rest of the announcement much to Jeans irritation.

 

"Jesus Christ Alex, calm your ass down. It's just a song."

 

"Just a song?! I'll have you know-mph!" His sisters hand slammed into his lips, shoving a handful of popcorn into her siblings open mouth. A thankful look to Rebecca had the man between them sulking openly. Had Jean not been distracted by the camera in front of him, he would have laughed aloud seeing his friend crunch on the popcorn, an obvious pout to his lips.

 

As the lights dimmed even more, Jean asked quietly, "Did you catch the name?"

 

"Not sure, Michael Scott?" Cat shrugged her shoulders before leaning over and sneaking a handful of popcorn.

 

The skater on the ice stopped at the dead center and knelt on one knee, hands up in offering, almost as if he was proposing. And when the music started the stadium fell silent.

 

Slowly, the man stood. Before stepping onto the ice, the skater had donned a basic, white mask, concealing his face. Regardless of the way his expressions were concealed, his emotions were raw and apparent with his posture. Like silk, he floated across the ice, happiness evident in every sway of his arms as he spun an imaginary partner to the music. He spun in circles, twirling and jumping as if someone was there beside him. After a short time, he slowed until stopping completely. He wrapped his arms around the air in a loving embrace. Pushing off, he skated backwards until he spun quickly and stopped short. The music thumped suddenly, and the man clutched at his chest and he sank to the ice.

 

As he sunk into a crouch, he pulled his arms in more tightly towards his chest. He seemed to hunch over on the ice for what seemed like an eternity to Jean, but not even a few seconds had passed before the man takes a step forward, shedding his jacket in the process and launching himself into a corkscrew spin. As he spun, the detail to the white shirt that he wore glinted off the lights above. Little clusters of black beads sprinkled the shirt, starting at his neck and quickly spreading out onto his upper back. To Jean, they almost looked like pitch black tears with the way they glistened in the spotlight.

 

After removing the jacket, the atmosphere around the man plummeted into a dark, miserable aura. At first, the remainder of the dance felt familiar to Jean until he clued in that the skater was duplicating his previous performance, but with his current emotion, the audience was haunted by the man who danced with empty arms.

 

Every detail of his posture, his shoulders, his hands, his head, told the story of a lonely ghost, watching his lover move on without him as he stayed by her side. As the song started to reach its crescendo, the ghost moved to hug his lover once again, but he stumbled. The move was obviously a part of the script, as the ghost passed through his lover. But in the few seconds that remained, something akin to hope grew with the music.

 

It was a sad, lonely hope, but it was there and it caused Jean's heart to clutch in sympathy. He found it difficult to breath while watching the man move forward, becoming strong in his silence and misery. As the song ebbed away, the man spun on the spot, once again rising from his crouched sit spin. But this time, he stared up, looking towards the lights as he lifted his arms above his head once again in prayer. His speed melted away as he spun slower and slower until he stopped and hung his head as the final note faded through the stadium.

 

The miserable silence left behind was deafening. Jean himself was rather choked at the performance, but that little hole inside him tweaked much more noticeably than it should have. He swallowed thickly.

 

As the skater on the ice fell out of his character, it was obvious that he was waiting for some sort of reply from the audience. While he looked around expectantly, an awed applause grew in the stadium.

 

There were no whoops of excitement or encouragement. There was no yelling or screaming. Just quiet respect and absolute amazement for this man's talent. The audience's appreciation was overwhelming and Jean could see the skater relax at the praise for his performance.

 

Turning his back to where Jean and his friends sat, he started to bow to each section of the audience, leaving Jean until last.

 

As he bowed deeply, the skater removed his mask and waved at the crowd after his bow. Once the man's brown locks fell into their place after being held back by the strings holding the mask in place, Jean felt his heart plummet suddenly. The floor seemed to fall out from under him as he stared at the back of the mans head.

 

In the mere seconds that followed, Jean couldn't comprehend why he was suddenly so scared to see the man's face, but every nerve in his body was coiling like a spring, ready to explode at any moment.

 

The announcers voice rose above the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen!…"

 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the man turned to face Jean's side of the audience. By some blip in the universe, out of the thousands of people in the crowd, their eyes met and Jean stared deep brown eyes. That warm, chocolate brown ocean that he hadn't seen in a long, long time.

 

"The one and only..."

 

The air rushed from his body and Jean felt his knees grow weak. He reached out a hand and clutched blindly at Alex beside him before he fell. The announcer's final words were the last thing he heard.

 

"Marco Bodt!"


End file.
